Solitude
by danfic
Summary: (A danisnotonfire fanfic. NOT PHAN). I tried, I really did. But I just didn't try hard enough. And that's what haunts me. *WARNING* contains strong language and depression.
1. I want to forget

I walk across the muddy fields to the maths block, my hair whirling around my face in the cold wind. I hear shouts in the distance. As I walk closer to the maths block, the shouts become louder and louder. It's a cold day, the leaves crunching underfoot, my breath coming out in white clouds. My hands are bunched into fists inside my coat pockets. I keep my head down, sheltering it from the harsh wind. The shouts are ominously close now. By now, I can tell it's the shouts of boys, maybe about 3 or 4. Then I hear laughter, and not the good kind. It's the mocking kind and I shiver, but it's got nothing to do with the temperature. I give in to the temptation and I look up to the sound of laugher mixed with evil. It noises belong to 3 boys, standing around something lying on the muddy ground. I slow down slightly, trying to see what they're surrounding. They haven't noticed me yet. I hear a guttural moan and I freeze. It sounds like something, an animal perhaps, in pain. I inch closer, curiosity getting the better of me.

'Faggot' I hear one of the boys say, guarding whatever's on the floor.

I look between the boys' black trousers and scuffed trainers and I see someone lying down. A boy, with dark brown hair. He's hunched over, protecting himself, his knees to his chest, his hands covering his face.

'Go suck some dick, gay boy'. The other's laugh.

'Hey Dan, you ever seen a vagina before?' One taunts.

'Don't be retarded, he's gay. He likes cock' another joins in.

'I'm not gay' I hear a quiet voice say, and I know instantly it's from the boy lying crumpled on the floor.

'Don't lie to us you little shit' one says, bending down so he's eye level with the brown haired boy. 'We all know you're gay. We've seen you in the changing room, checking us out. You like dick, everyone knows. Queer'.

'So, what did you do last night Dan?' By now, all three are crouching down next to the boy. 'Masturbate to gay porn?'

'No' the brown haired boy says.

'Fucking look at me when you're talking to me, faggot' one says, ripping the boys hands away from his face. His brown eyes ringed with dark circles. They're dull, there's no life in them.

'No' the brown haired boy repeats suddenly, looking into the boys' eyes.

'Oh sorry, did your boyfriend shove his cock up your arse instead?' I hear laughter.

'I'm not gay' the boy says tiredly. 'I've told you that; do you not pay attention?'

All three boys stand up then and my heart begins to race, wondering what they're going to do.

I hear a cry of pain and I have to stop myself from running away. I force myself to look back and I see the three boys kicking the brown haired boy, Dan, I think.

Dan curls himself up tighter. I see one boy lift his foot and aim it at Dan's face. I can't bear to watch. But I can still hear. I hear the sickening crunch of bones and I feel like I'm about to throw up.

'Leave the faggot now guys, we're gonna be late' one says a few moments later. They give him one final, violent kick in the stomach and turn away.

I stand in shock, rooted to the ground. Trying to comprehend what I've just witnessed. I look back towards the boy, lying motionless on the ground. I walk ever so slightly closer. I can see his chest rise and fall, but apart from that, he's not moving. I look at his face. His lips are swollen and blood is running from his nose. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows knitted together. His clothes are covered in mud, and there are a few drops of blood on the collar of his white shirt.

The wind rushes around me, the tree's leaves rustling. It's completely silent apart from that. I look at my watch on my wrist; I have only one minute to get to maths.

I hitch my bag up higher on my shoulder and begin to proceed walking. I hear a quiet sob come from behind me and I know it's from the boy. I stop and turn back to look at him. His eyes are now open and are bloodshot. Half of his face is covered in mud and his dark hair is hanging in his red eyes. The tears on his face begin to mix in with the blood from his nose. His eyes, although bloodshot, seem different than previously.

_I'm sorry_ I want to shout but the words stay unspoken.

I force myself to walk on, leaving the boy behind me. But his brown eyes are now ingrained in my mind. Then it comes to me.

Pain.

Sadness.

I don't look back. I can't look back. I don't want to look back.

I want to forget.

But I don't think I can.


	2. I'm invisable

I walk to maths quickly, trying to ignore the fact that I've left the boy behind. Alone. I reach my class room with only seconds to spare and I head to my seat, head hanging, trying to not draw attention to myself. It's easier to go unnoticed. The brown haired boy's sob of pain echo's in my mind, along with the crunch of bones. I pick a pencil out of my bag and lay it on the table and I hear the classroom door open.

'Okay guys' it's the teacher, Mr Foster. 'We're gonna be doing quadratic equations today'.

There's an audible groan from the class and Mr Foster tries not to smile.

'Thought you'd all enjoy it' he quips. He turns to the whiteboard and begins to write out the equation _4x²+6x -5=0._ 'Anyone know how to-'

He's cut off by the sound of knocking on the classroom door. Mr Foster sighs and walks to open it.

'Sorry I'm late, Sir' comes a quiet voice from behind the door.

Mr Foster sighs for the second time and begrudgingly opens the door wider to let whoever's behind it in.

I hear footsteps and I look up. I see the brown haired boy from earlier standing awkwardly at the front of the class. His gaze locks with mine and I drop mine quickly in embarrassment. I dare to look up again and I find that he's still looking at me. He clearly remembers me from earlier. His brown eyes harden and his mouth tightens into a thin line.

'Alright Dan' Mr Foster says. 'Seeing as you've decided to walk in late to my lesson, I assume that you know all about quadratics, am I right?'

The brown haired boy, Dan, walks to his seat and sits in it. His clothes are still covered in mud, and although he's wiped the blood off his face, there are still drops on his collar.

'Well, actually, yeah, I do' he says quietly but confidently.

Mr Foster raises an eyebrow in surprise. 'Well Dan, seeing as we haven't covered it in class, then would you like to explain how to do this?' He points to the equation on the board that he'd written earlier.

Dan shrugs. 'Alright. Well, we know that 'a'= 4, 'b'=6 and 'c'=-5' he pauses for a breath. 'And the quadratic equation is 'x= -b plus or minus the square root of b squared – 4ac all over 2a' then just substitute in the values of 'a', 'b' and 'c'.

'Mmmm' Mr Foster's expression is unreadable.

Dan carries on. 'So x = -6 plus or minus the square root of 6 squared – ( -5) all over 2 x 4', so that equals 'x = -6 plus or minus the square root of 116 all over 8', which then equals '-6 plus or minus 10.77 all over 8' which finally equals…' Dan thinks for a moment. '0.6 or -2.1'.

Mr Foster is silent, as is the whole class.

'Very good Dan' he manages to splutter out in sheer disbelief.

Dan looks down at his desk, he looks embarrassed. His dark fringe in hanging in his eye and he pushes it back with his left hand.

'Okay guys, turn to page 135 in the blue textbook, Dan, I'm going to get you another textbook, alright?' Mr Foster turns to leave and exits the classroom.

The class is silent for a moment before the taunts begin.

'Gay nerd'.

'When did you learn that, faggot? Did you swot up on it to make you look smarter than the rest of us? Dickhead'.

'Did your boyfriend teach you that after you fucked him?'

'Do you two sit down and have a nice, leisurely chat about maths after you give him head?'

Dan is silent during the cruel remarks being thrown at him.

'Does your boyfriend punish you if you don't remember the equations, queer?'

'Does he make you recite them as you fuck him?'

The taunts instantly stop as Mr Foster re-enters the room. He hands out the textbooks and we all work on the quadratics in silence.

As soon as the bell rings, signalling break, everyone jumps up and shoves their equipment into their bags and rush out of the door. I pack up more slowly, avoiding the mass of people pushing to get out of the room. I leave the classroom and head to the toilets. I look at myself in the mirror, longish, dark blonde hair with stormy grey eyes and pale lips. I apply some lip balm before wiping away a smudge of eyeliner. I'm your everyday, average teenage girl. I'm not the school slut, bitch or joker. I'm just me; I'm invisible, like a mouse.

A swarm of girls enter and I decide it's time to leave. I head out into the cold wind again and decide to take the long route to the English block, to kill a bit of time. I walk along the pathway, surrounded by bare trees.

My thoughts are interrupted by a cry of pain and my heart lurches. I walk more quickly in the direction that the cry came from. I hear a loud groan and my walk turns into a run. This time, I only see one boy. I turn to leave when I hear another loud groan. I stop and look back and look south of the boy. I see a figure curled up on the floor. Dan. The other boy has short, light brown hair but I can't see his face as he's got his back to me. He lifts his foot and kicks Dan in his ribs before aiming for his head.

I hear a shout and I realise it's me. The lighter brown haired boy stops, caught off guard. I run forward and push him out of the way before he can deliver his kick to his target.

'Hey, hey, hey! Stop' I say to him. 'Leave him alone'.

The boy's glare hardens and my heart begins to thump, wondering if I'm now in for it. He spits on the ground before leaving. Leave me alone with Dan.

I crouch down and gently place my hand on his arm. 'You okay?'

Dan nods. 'I'm fine'.

I root around in my bag. 'I've got some tissues somewhere. Here' I say, handing him a few.

I gently help him up so he's now sitting and I sit down next to him.

He lifts the tissue to his face and attempts to wipe the fresh blood and mud off his face but his hand is shaking so much he's unable to do it.

'I'll do it' I murmur and I gently wipe his face, exposing a new cut by his eye. They begin to weep so I press a new tissue against it to stem the flow. We sit there in silence, neither of us saying a single word. We hear the bell for third period but neither of us move.

'I'm…I'm…I'm sorry that I didn't help earlier' I murmur, avoiding his gaze.

'It's okay' he says.

'I…I should have done…I don't know why I didn't' I whisper. 'I feel so bad. I'm so sorry Dan'.

'I'm used to it' he mutters and my heart breaks.

'You really need to tell someone' I say to him.

He looks up suddenly, his brown eyes boring into mine. 'No' he whispers fiercely. 'I can't. It'll only get worse. A lot worse'.

'But…' his I stop as he interrupts me.

'No…' he pauses, searching for my name.

'Keara'.

'It's my choice, okay? And I know the consequences of telling. Trust me'.

I nod mutely, torn between arguing and leaving it.

'Please Keara. I can handle it. Don't you get involved'.

'I can't just stand and watch you get beaten up!' I protest.

'Keara. If you know what's good for you, then you'd stay out of it. You have to believe me on this'.

'But they wouldn't hit me, they wouldn't hit a girl'.

'No' Dan agrees. 'But they'd find other ways. Trust me'.

I open my mouth but Dan abruptly cuts me off.

'I think we should get going, don't you?'

I nod and I stand up, Dan winces as he staggers to his feet. Once he's reached his full height, he towers over me. He's at least 6 foot tall, if not more.

'You should get them checked out' I say, gesturing to his ribcage.

'I should but I probably won't. I don't think they're broken anyway, they don't hurt too much.

'You should apply some antiseptic to the cut near your eye as well'.

'Yes mum' he says jokingly. 'Anyway, I'm heading off now' he turns to leave before pausing and he looks back over his shoulder. 'Thank you Keara, you know, for earlier' he murmurs before carrying on his way.

I watch his retreating back, feeling slightly uneasy. I watch him before he disappears from sight.


	3. No one will miss me when I'm gone

I turn my back and head to my next lesson, English. Dan's cry of pain still echoing in my mind. I hurry indoors and sit in my seat in the corner; next to my three friends, Anna, Lucy and Megan, waiting for the classroom to fill up.

'Fucking faggot' I hear someone say and I strain my ears to hear the conversation.

'Gaylord is so up his own arse'.

'No, his boyfriend is up his arse' someone else joins in and there's a ripple of laughter.

By now, the other conversations have stopped and everyone's listening in, including myself.

'Wonder where he is now'.

'He's gone home to get a blowjob from his boyfriend, duh. He'd obviously rather get head than an education'. Laugher fills the room again.

_There's nothing wrong with being gay _I want to shout. _You don't know he's gay for certain, anyway, do you? _But of course, I don't, I don't want to draw attention to myself.

The laugher then dies down as the teacher enters the room, carrying a pile of books. She drops then on the desk and logs onto her computer.

'Right guys, let me take the register then we'll get cracking with Of Mice and Men, alright?'

I zone out as she takes everyone's names but one name in particular makes me look up.

'Dan Howell?' she says. 'Dan?'

Her eyes scan the classroom and I do too. One boy, sitting in the middle of the room, lifts his hand to his mouth and moves it backwards and forwards, implying a blowjob. I hear muffled snickers and I see smirks fly from one person to another.

She marks him as absent and carries on, oblivious to the snickering.

She hands out copies of Of Mice and Men and tells us to work on the foreshadowing throughout the books. My mind wonders to Dan. I wonder where he is now, what he's doing. His hunched body still fresh in my mind, the blood on his face.

'_I'm used to it'._

That phrase in now embedded in my mind. The rest of the lesson passes quickly and so does the rest of the day.

I sit on my bed, laptop on my lap and log into Facebook, scrolling through all the new status' posted today. One in particular catches my eye:

"_lol, Cunt's gonna get what's coming to him"._

I feel sick, they're talking about Dan. There are over 56 comments on it and 24 have likes the status. I type 'Dan Howell' into the search bar at the top and filter the search but he doesn't appear. I find that a bit odd, at least 95% of teenagers have Facebook, most adults too.

I surf the internet for a while before shutting down my laptop and starting my homework.

'_I'm used to it'_

The phrase is still running through my head, even by the time I go to bed.

'_I'm used to it'_

I drop off into a deep sleep, hoping I won't remember the phrase by the time I wake up.

'Look, the faggot's back' someone says as Dan walks into Maths.

'Did you get a nice blowjob yesterday?'

Dan ignores the comments and walks to his seat, his eyes downcast. He sits down and keeps his head down, obviously hoping that if he ignores the petty comments, then they'll stop.

'Posh nerd'.

'Raging queer'.

'Do you enjoy taking it up the arse?'

The comments fly back and forth, each one getting crueller and crueller.

I study Dan, his fringe is hanging in his left eye like usual, his tie is loosely tied around his neck, his white shirt blood-less. He's staring intently at the table, his leg jiggling, his hands clenched into fists.

'What do your parents think about you liking cock?'

'I bet they hate you, I bet they wish they had a different son. A son who wasn't a faggot'.

The classroom begins fill with mocking laughter.

'I bet they wish you were never born. I bet they're ashamed of having such a queer for a son'.

'HEY!' I shout and instantly, the class quietens down, everyone turning to stare at me. The invisible girl. 'Leave him alone guys. He's done nothing wrong, alright? Also, don't say shit like that, you all know it's not true. Leave him be'.

I turn to look at Dan, who smiles at me gratefully and nods his head ever so slightly in thanks. The class murmurs quietly but no one throws any insults at Dan for the rest of the lesson.

I walk out of maths and I hear footsteps from behind me. I feel a hand grab my arm.

'What?' I snap angrily before I realise who it is. 'Oh, hi, sorry, I thought you were someone else'.

Dan lets go of my arm and falls into step with me. 'I just wanted to say thank you for what you said back there' he says, tilting his head back in the direction of the maths classroom'.

I shrug nonchalantly. 'It was nothing. Seriously'.

'Well, it was for me. No one has ever stood up for me' he says simply.

'Seriously?' I stop dead in the middle of the pathway, Dan turns to face me, he looks confused.

'Yeah, why?'

'You mean, you get verbally abused and physically abused, in front of _everyone_ and no one has ever bothered to stand up for you or stop it?'

'Yeah' Dan looks at me as if he can't understand why I'm finding it difficult to comprehend. 'Why would they? I'm nothing'.

'Don't say that, of course you're something Dan' I say gently.

'But I'm not Keara. No one would miss me when I'm gone. No one will notice'.

'I'd notice Dan, of course I would!' I protest.

'But you'd get over it'.

'No I wou-'

I stop short as my phone beeps, indicating a new message. It's from Anna, telling me to meet her by the RE block as soon as possible. Apparently it was urgent. I stuff my phone back into my bag.

'Sorry Dan but I've gotta go' I garble, turning to walk.

'Wait!' he calls out, rushing to catch up with me. 'Please, I want to talk to you. I need someone to talk to. Please, Keara' he says, his voice heavy with desperation.

'I'm really sorry Dan, can't we talk later?' I call out, picking up my pace. 'Come and find me tomorrow and we'll talk then, I promise you'.

I don't get a reply.

I walk quickly to the RE block and I find Anna, Lucy and Megan all sitting down against a wall. Lucy's head is against her knees and I hear sobbing.

'Luce?' I ask, crouching down to her level. 'What's wrong?'

'Her mum's just been in a car accident' Megan explains quietly. 'She's got severe head injuries. She's in a coma'.

My blood runs cold and I stay there in shock, not knowing what to do or say.

'She'll be fine, Luce' I say, trying to comfort her but it just makes her cry harder.

Megan, Anna and I stand up and gently pick Lucy up and carry her to the nurse's office. We hug her goodbye and head to Biology.

The day drags painfully but I don't see Dan for the rest of the day. I wonder where's gone. I walk home quickly and get on with the mound of homework I've been putting off for the past few weeks. It takes me around 3 hours and when I finally finish it, I grab my laptop and check Facebook.

"_Stupid faggot needs to die"._

My heart sinks and I quickly log off and slam my laptop shut, feeling ill. I sit on my bed, staring into space. People's cruelty really does amaze me sometimes.


	4. Silence, just deadly silence

'We have assembly today' Megan says to me as I walk up to her and Anna the next day. Lucy's not in, understandably.

'What? But it's Thursday. We have assembly on Tuesday…' I say, trailing off.

'Yeah, I know but apparently Ms Morgan has something important to say'.

I shrug at Anna and we all walk to the quad, where everyone begins to line up. We file into assembly in silence as we all take our seats. The whole school is here, which is incredibly unusual we our assemblies usually only involve one year group at a time.

Low murmuring fills the hall as we all sit there, waiting for someone to tell us what's going on.

I look around me, specifically at the teachers. There's a group of the huddled at the side of the room, chattering quietly amongst themselves. They look fine. But on closer inspection, one teacher's eyes are red, another's clutching a tissue, and the other is nervously looking around the room. I look at other teachers; some aren't speaking while some are being hugged by others. Something is terribly wrong then.

I nudge Anna. 'Something's wrong. Look at the teachers' I whisper and I watch her as she scans the room.

'You're right' she murmurs back. 'But we won't have to wait long, Ms Morgan's here'.

The restlessness in the room stops as Ms Morgan makes her way across the hall to stand in front of us.

'I'm sure you're all wondering why I've gathered you all here today' she begins. 'Well, this morning I received some terrible news and I thought you should all be aware of it'.

My heart begins to race and my hands feel clammy. I clasp them together, waiting for her to deliver the news. I sneak a glance at Megan and Anna; both of them are staring intently ahead.

'This morning, I got a call from a parent explaining that their child had sadly taken their own life yesterday'.

Silence.

Nobody moves or utters a single word.

Just deadly silence.

She hasn't said who it is yet and my heart beings to race even more. I grab Anna's hand and hold it tightly.

'As you can tell, we're all extremely saddened by this news. Yesterday, we lost a pupil and more importantly, a friend to many. They will always be valued as a great addition to this school and our thoughts will be with their family during this tragic time'.

I feel like I'm about to be sick.

'Can we all have a moment of silence for Daniel Howell please'.


	5. You just didn't try hard enough

My heart stops. The blood in my veins runs cold. I can't move.

No. Not Dan. No.

Please tell me that this is some kind of nightmare and that I'll wake up any moment and Dan will still be alive.

No. Please, no.

The room is silent; no one utters a single word or moves an inch.

Everyone's in shock.

After what seems like an eternity, Ms Morgan finally speaks.

'Although I do not know what made Daniel succumb to his final action, I just hope that he's now in peace'.

She wipes a tear from her eye and walks back to the side of the room.

No one moves.

I turn to face Anna, her face is pale and her hands are shaking. I then look at Megan, she's leaning forward, her head in her hands.

'You're free to leave' the assistance head calls out into the unmoving room, full of shocked students.

Gradually, everyone gathers their stuff and moves out of the hall, still in silence. There's no cheerful laughter, no chattering, no pushing or shoving. Nothing.

I rest my palms against my forehead, unable to do anything else. I don't even cry. I feel numb.

_You could have saved him_.

My nails dig into my head but I ignore the pain.

_No one will miss me when I'm gone_.

_When. _

_No one will notice. _

_Will._

I sit there, thinking. My mouth is dry and I'm shaking.

Dan had killed himself. He's gone. And he's never coming back.

_You could have saved him_ the voice inside my head whispers again. _You could have helped him. _

'I did help him' I mutter angrily to myself. 'I did'.

_He wanted to talk to you. But you chose not to talk to him then_ the voice carries on. _If you had talked to him then, you could have stopped him. You could have saved him. If you had spoken to him, then he might be alive, breathing. You could have helped him'._

'Keara' I hear someone say, I feel their hand on my shoulder. I look up, it's Ms Morgan. 'You're the only one left in here. You can go'.

'I know. I…I…I just…I don't know' I mumble. 'I don't feel like moving, you know?'

'I understand' she smiles sympathetically. 'I hope you're okay though. Please don't blame yourself' she pats my shoulder. 'No one will ever know why Dan decided to do it. And perhaps that's for the best. Maybe we wouldn't want to know. Perhaps it's easier to not know, to be surrounded by our own ignorance? He was obviously very unhappy and he thought that the only way he could stop the pain was to give in and stop living. It would have gotten better, everything and everyone does. I just hope he's in a better place now'. Ms Morgan looks skyward before walking off.

How can I not blame myself? Dan wanted to talk. I remember hearing the desperation in his voice. He wanted help. He needed someone, anyone to talk to. He chose me. But I left him, alone with his thoughts, with his inner demons. I could have stopped him if I had talked to him. I could have saved him. If I had talked with him then and there, he would probably be alive right now.

'_I'm nothing'._

No, he _was _something, even if he himself couldn't see it.

_Maybe if you'd stopped him from being beaten up on the field, then maybe he'd be alive. But you ignored him. You left him, beaten and bleeding. You left him with his physical tormenters. Maybe if you'd stuck up for him in Maths, then he'd still be here. _

But I did stick up for him! I stopped the class from verbally abusing him in the next maths lesson, and I stopped that boy from kicking him in the head the next day.

_But what about all the other times, when you didn't? Maybe Keara, if you'd helped him earlier, then he'd be breathing right now. _

But it's not just me; others could have stopped it as well! They could have helped! I wasn't the one physically and verbally abusing him! I did nothing wrong!

_No, but he needed a friend. He wanted _you _to help him, but you let him down. You weren't there. You only tried to help when it was too late. Maybe if you'd have stepped in earlier, then Dan wouldn't have committed suicide. _

'NO!' I shout out loud at the voice inside my head. 'NO, NO, NO!'

The remaining teachers look up in alarm and frown at the girl shouting at herself. I grab my bag and run to the toilet and lock myself in one of the cubicles.

I drop my bag on the floor and I beg to kick at the toilet in pure anger. The guilt was beginning to pull me down, like an anchor. So I would never resurface. I run my hands through my dark brown, almost black, hair and pull at it, hoping to release some of my pent up emotions.

Dan's dead. He's gone. And he's never coming back.

_You could have saved him. You were too wrapped up in your friend's issues, when in fact; you were ignoring someone else's issues, someone who was on the brink of suicide. And you left them. You could have helped him, Keara. _

'I TRIED TO HELP HIM. I DID. I TRIED!' I scream.

_But you just didn't try hard enough_.


	6. But times can't be turned

'NO!' I yell. 'NO!'

_If you'd have tried harder, Keara, then he'd probably be alive right now._

I lean against the cubical wall and sink to the floor, my head in my hands, my nails digging into my scalp.

_If you weren't so worried about your reputation, then you could have stopped him._

'I WASN'T WORRIED ABOUT MY REPUTATION!' I scream, not caring who heard me. I didn't care anymore.

_Then why didn't you step in? Was it because you were worried about getting the treatment yourself? Were you scared of being treated like how Dan was, being physically beaten up and having everyone hate you? Were you, Keara? Were you only worried about yourself?_

'I WASN'T WORRIED ABOUT MYSELF! I CARED ABOUT HIM! I DID! I DID! I DID!' I cry.

_Were you really, though? Because if you truly did care about him; then you would have stepped in earlier. You would have prevented so much. Maybe if you'd have stepped in at the very start of it, then maybe it wouldn't have ended up like this. Maybe Dan wouldn't be dead. _

Sobs begin to rack through my body and I bang my head against the wall. The tears begin to roll down my face.

_You only cared at the very _end, _Keara. If you had truly cared about Dan, then you would have intervened at the beginning. You only started to care when it got too much. And by then, it was too late to stop it. _

'AT LEAST I CARED THOUGH!' I shout. 'NO ONE ELSE DID. AT LEAST I TRIED'.

_That's true; people are only starting to care _now, _once it's too late. Sure Keara, you did care. But only at the end. Yes, you did try. But not enough. _

'Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT' I yell out loud at the voice inside my head.

'Are you okay in there?' Someone is knocking on the cubical door. They sound concerned.

'Fine thanks' I say quickly, standing up and grabbing my bag before rushing out, keeping my head down.

My feet thud against the linoleum quietly, no one is around.

_You could have saved him._

I can't face going to Maths. Seeing Dan's empty chair, knowing he'll never sit in it again, knowing he'll never walk through that door again, knowing that he'll never speak, move, breathe. I can't face seeing all the people who tormented him, pretending to care when in fact; they were part of the problem. A big part.

I walk out of the school gates, not caring if anyone sees me. Everything seems so unimportant right now. Now that Dan's dead.

_And you could have saved him_.

I walk around the town aimlessly for a while, not caring where I was or who saw me. I eventually end up by the river. It's moving slowly, the water a dark, murky blue. I sit down on a patch of dry grass and rest my chin on my palm.

_If you'd have tried harder, you would have saved him. _

I stare into the water. Was Dan scared? Knowing that it would all be over after? No more being kicked to the floor, no more being punched, no more cruel remarks, no more pain. Knowing that he would be dead, and that there was no going back after? Did he not think about his parents? Or maybe a sibling if he had one? Knowing that they'd walk into his bedroom and see their son unmoving. Not breathing. Dead. Knowing that they wouldn't be able to do anything? Because it was too late?

Because times can't be turned, nor actions undone.


	7. Nine words

I sat there and I think about what Ms Morgan privately said to me, ''No one will ever know why Dan decided to do it. And perhaps that's for the best. Maybe we wouldn't want to know. Perhaps it's easier to not know, to be surrounded by our own ignorance''. Maybe she's right, because if we ever did find out, then we'd never be able to look at ourselves again, knowing that perhaps you were one of the reasons someone decided to end their own life. It would change you as a person, and not for the better. Although I partly know why Dan did, I think everyone who witnessed the physical and verbal attacks does. I wonder if they're feeling the same as me. But I guess I'll never know.

I get up and decide to go home, back to an empty house; my parents are still at work. I don't know if I can tell them. I don't know if I can tell them that boy at my school committed suicide, and more importantly, that I could have prevented it.

As I'm walking through the empty streets, one house catches my eye. It's a semi-detached, red brick building, with a stone wall at the front. But that's not what makes me stop. It's the flowers, notes and cards pilled at the bottom of the wall. My breath catches in my throat. Dan's house. There's a car parked in the driveway and the windows are open, meaning someone's in.

I want answers.

I go against my conscience and walk hesitantly towards the house, my heart racing with each step. I find myself at the wooden front door and I take a deep breath. I nervously knock three times and stand back, waiting for someone to answer it.

Around 30 seconds later, a tall, dark haired woman opens it and looks at me apprehensively.

'Hello' she says cautiously.

My hands are sweaty. 'Hi, my name's Keara Hamilton, I go to The Forest School'.

When I say that, she looks up sharply. 'Where my boy, Dan, went?' her voice is no louder than a whisper.

I nod. Maybe this was a bad idea. 'Yeah. I heard about it today… In assembly… I'm so, so sorry'.

'Thanks' she murmurs, looking back down at again. She's twisting her hands nervously. 'Did you know… Did you know Dan personally?'

'Umm…' my mouth is dry. 'We were acquaintances, I guess. We were in some of the same classes'.

'Oh…' she seems at loss for words. She looks up again, her dark eyes hard. 'Was it you? What did you do to my son?' her voice is filled with anger.

I shrink back. 'N…Nothing' I stammer. 'I didn't do anything to him, I promise!'

'Hmmm…' the anger is gone from her voice. 'Why are you here then? You want answers, I suppose'.

I nod, feeling guilty.

'Come in' she says begrudgingly. 'You must know some things. Perhaps together we can get to the bottom of this'. When she says this, her brown eyes fill with tears. I notice that they are the same colour as Dan's were. Although I don't think anyone will ever get to the bottom of it.

She opens the door wider and I hesitantly step into the hallway. We walk through to the kitchen. Hanging on the walls are pictures. Dan and his family on holiday, Dan and a younger boy, his brother I presume. Dan with a friend, Dan smiling for his school photo. My throat tightens and my eyes fill with hot tears.

We reach a large kitchen and she sits down at the oak table and gestures for me to sit opposite her.

'Would you like a drink?' her voice is hoarse.

I shake my head. 'Thanks Mrs Howell, but no, I'm alright'.

'Call me Karen' she says, getting up and moving towards the coffee maker.

'Oh okay, um' I feel stupid. 'Would it be okay…If…I went up…To his….' I trail off, holding my breath, awaiting her reaction.

She turns to face me. 'If you'd like to. But please, don't move anything'.

'Okay, um, thanks' I reply and head towards the stairs.

'It's the second on the left!' she calls out as I head on up.

I come to a white door and I place my hand on the brass handle and push open. I feel sick. I'm greeted by brown walls and a cream carpet. I step inside and close the door behind me. I feel sick. I scan the room, a single, unmade bed, the curtains half drawn, some of the cupboard draws still open with clothes spilling out. I venture inside more, it just looks like an ordinary teenage boy's room.

Something brown in the corner of the room catches my eye. I nervously walk towards it to have a closer look. The tears being to run down my face freely, as I realise what it is. It's a rope.

I back away from it, my hand over my mouth and I resist the urge to run out and never return. But I steel my nerve and force myself to walk to his bedside drawers. On the top, there's a black, digital alarm clock and a dirty mug. There's a few books piled messily next to them. I smile as I read the titles, To Kill a Mockingbird, two books from the Edge Chronicles series and Angels and Demons.

I frown as I look more closely at the chaotically piled books. There's a white edge poking out from underneath Angels and Demons. So small you wouldn't notice it unless you looked really closely.

I hold my breath as I wiggle it free, trying not to dislodge any of the books.

I freeze as I see writing on the slip of paper. Nine words.

"_I give in. _

_I surrender._

_You win. _

_I lose". _


	8. Leave me alone, please

I scream and drop the piece of paper, my hand once again covering my mouth. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I vaguely hear footsteps rushing towards me but I don't move; I stand there, motionless.

The door bursts open. 'Keara?' Ms Howell asks me frantically. 'Keara! Answer me!'

I don't answer but I point to the white slip of paper on the floor.

She runs towards it and picks it up with shaking hands. I watch her face drain of colour; it's now the same shade of white as the paper. I hear a muffled cry, full of pain, anguish and sadness.

We both stand there, frozen, unaware of anything else apart from the nine words on the paper, the tears on our cheeks glistening.

'Shall we phone the police?' I eventually ask her.

She shakes her head. 'There's nothing they can do. It's not a murder case. It's suicide. There's nothing anyone can do'. She grips the paper in her right hand, like she never wants to let it go. 'Let's go downstairs'.

I follow her out of the room and shut the bedroom door gently behind me. We both walk down the stairs in silence and to the kitchen.

"_I give in._

_I surrender._

_You win._

_I lose."_

'I'm so sorry' I choke out to Mrs Howell while she stares at the kitchen floor, still clenching the note in her hand.

She walks over to me and grips me by the forearm. 'Tell me what you know' she whispers fiercely. 'Tell me'.

_You could have saved him. If you had helped sooner, then he might not have given in._

'I…I…' I gulp. What can I tell her? That I could have saved her son's life but I didn't? That I let him get beaten up and verbally abused to the point of suicide? I can't. I just can't. 'I don't know much. I mean, yeah, I was in some of his classes but nothing ever really happened. There was one time where some boys were insulting him, telling him he was gay and stuff like that. But I told them to stop. I didn't want him to be hurt'. At least some of it's the truth.

'You stopped them? What were they saying?'

'Um…They were calling him gay, queer, faggot et cetera. And they said…Um…That his parents were ashamed of having a gay son'. I close my eyes, their insults still fresh in my mind. 'I stopped them though! I did! You have to believe me!'

She lets out a whimper, her eyes closed but a single tear escapes. Then another, then another. 'I would never be ashamed of him. He was my life. Him and my other boy. I would do anything for them' she pauses. 'Well, I would have done anything'. She wipes away her tears before continuing. 'You stepped in?'

'Yeah' I nod. 'I tried'.

_You didn't try hard enough, Keara. You know that._

'Thank you for trying my dear' she smiles through her tears at me. 'Dan was lucky to have a friend like you'.

I nod, holding back the tears that were threatening to overcome me. 'Thanks' I whisper.

She walks towards me and envelopes me in a hug. I feel her tears soak into my jumper as we both cry.

_You weren't his friend. Don't try and pretend that you were. Because a friend wouldn't have let him get beaten up and insulted. A friend would have stepped in. A friend would have saved him. _

I pull back and wipe my face with my sleeve. 'I'm sorry but I've got to go now' I hastily turn away. 'Again, I'm so sorry'. I turn and run out of the house without waiting for a reply.

I arrive back at my house around 10 minutes later and I run upstairs, thankful that I'm home alone. I don't want to speak to anyone. I slam my door shut and run my hands through my hair, digging my fingers into my scalp. I fall onto my bed, burying my tear stained face into the duvet.

"_I give in._

_I surrender._

_You win._

_I lose."_

I can still see Dan's writing on the note clearly. Knowing that they were the last words he'd ever written. Then the rope comes into my mind. The brown rope with the noose knot at the top of it. Knowing that it'd been around Dan's neck. Knowing that it'd killed him.

I hear the front door bang and I hear my mum call out to me, asking if I'd had a good day at school.

'Fine thanks' I call out, praying she wouldn't come up to see me. I have to try and be normal, and not let anyone see what I'm hiding and the guilt I'm succumbing to.

I sit on my window sill and stare up into the sky. It's now dark and the stars are out. It's a peaceful night, no rain or clouds in sight.

_If you had helped, then Dan would still be here now. He wanted a friend, he trusted you. But you didn't let him. And that's what killed him. His feeling and thoughts began to eat him alive. The voices in his head took over. He wanted to let them out to someone, so he would feel less solitary. He wanted that person to be you. _

'No. No. No' I mutter; the lump in my throat preventing me from talking further; pushing my fingers in my ears, as if that would stop the voices inside my head.

_All he wanted was a _friend, _Keara. Someone he would trust. Someone who would be right by his side, helping him fight his battles._

'What do you want for dinner?' My mum calls out, interrupting the voice inside my head.

'I'm not hungry' I call back, expecting her to argue back but to my surprise, she doesn't.

I lean my head back against the cold wall and I sigh, hugging my knees. Wishing the voice in my head would leave me alone.

_That's what Dan wanted. He wanted the voices inside his head and the voices outside of his head to stop. He wanted to be in peace, away from the pain. _

I grit my teeth together and shut my eyes tightly, breathing in and out, my hands clenched into fists.

'Stop' I beg the voice inside of my head. 'Please. Stop. Leave me alone. Please'.

_Dan wanted people to leave him alone. You couldn't have helped him with that. But you didn't. And now you have to live with the consequences. _

'I know!' I shout. I dive onto my bed and press my face into my pillow, muffling my cries. 'I know!'

I scream and sob into my pillow, screaming until my throat is dry and until there are no more tears left.


	9. Is this really living?

When I open my eyes, the glowing red numbers on my clock stare back at me. 7:34am. I should be up and ready for school, awaiting the day ahead of me. I should be walking to the bus stop right now, music in one ear and talking to Anna at the same time.

I make no effort to get up. There's no point. I'll have to walk into Maths and see Dan's empty chair, knowing that he'll never sit in it again. Knowing that perhaps if I had acted earlier, he might be sitting in it right now. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to see anyone. I want to be alone.

I stare up at my ceiling, my mind whirling with questions I don't want to answer and thoughts I don't want to achknowledge.

I lie there for a while, motionless. I wonder what Dan wanted to talk to me about. Whether it was about the physical violence, or the verbal violence. Whether he was going to ask for help. Whether he was going to ask for advice. Whether he was going to admit what he was planning to do that night, hoping that I would talk him out of it. Give him a reason to live. But maybe I couldn't have helped him. Maybe I couldn't have given him any advice or help. Maybe I was just as helpless.

"_No one would miss me when I'm gone. No one will notice"._

"_You'd get over it". _

His words run over and over again in my mind. He thought of me as a strong person, someone he could rely on. What would he think of me now? Weak. Broken. Helpless. Numb. I turn over and fall asleep, my thoughts leaving me.

My phone beeps loudly, waking me up. I frown and push my hair out of my eyes and reach for my phone. Its bright glare makes me wince in the darkness.

"K, where are you? Why aren't you in?' It's Anna.

I don't want to reply. I don't want to talk to anyone, even if it is via text. I throw my phone down and turn over, cocooning myself in my duvet.

'K, answer me goddammit' Anna again.

The phone keeps beeping, indicating new messages.

'K. Is it about Dan? Because that's not your fault K, you did nothing wrong' she sends another message for the third time.

"_You did nothing wrong" _Oh how I wish that was true. But she doesn't know. No one does besides me and Dan. And I want to keep it that way. I don't want to hurt anyone else. One is enough. I turn my phone off and lie back down again.

I wonder where Dan is now. I wonder if you can get into Heaven if you kill yourself. I wonder what it's like wherever he is. I wonder if he's in less pain. I hope he's happier.

I stare out of the window from my bed. I watch the clouds move I watch the trees move gently in the wind; I watch the sun change place.

The next week passes slowly. I don't go to school. I delete the school's messages off the answering machine, I throw away their letters. I keep my phone off; I don't go on the computer. I don't do anything, I don't want to.

The days all seem to muddle together, my mind is blank. I stay in my room, curtains drawn apart from the slight gap where I stare out into the sky. The only times I leave my bed is to shower, change, go to the toilet and eat. I laugh when I'm with my family; I laugh the loudest and smile the hardest. I pretend that I'm okay. And they don't suspect anything. Why would they?

I sit on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the moon. I could have saved him. I know I could have done.

I think it takes a lot to realise when you're living but not alive.

You're constantly tied to your bed; thinking about the past and how you wish you could go back and change it. How you wouldn't make the same mistakes again because it would have led to a different outcome. A better outcome. Better for you and for everyone else around you. You wish you knew that back then. You're living in the past, holding onto those painful memories that open up the painful scars and wounds that you desperately try to forget.

You don't want to talk to anyone. You don't want to do anything. You just want to be on your own and revisit the past; maybe because you didn't feel pain then, you just lived in the moment. But memories define us, even after that moment has passed, after everything you once had now gone; you still have your memories. The bittersweet feeling as you recall one, the twang of nostalgia sweeping over you as you remember a happier time.

But when you do think about the future, you plan your 'perfect life', you think about the things you could look forward to. But the question is; what if this will never happen? Do we just use the future to escape the present?

You change yourself for the people around you; you copy other's behaviours and appearances, to try and make not only yourself, but the people around you realise that you're something special. But the realisation of who you really are is painful, the nameless person inside of you, that in the silence of the night, you succumb to the numbness.

Is this really living?


	10. One day you'll forget why

I turn and stare out of my bedroom, the sun is beginning to go down and the moon has appeared.

I wonder what Dan's parents are doing now; how they're coping. I wonder who found him; hanging from a rope in his bedroom. Dead. I wonder what his brother did when he found out that his brother had killed himself. I wonder how his parents feel, knowing that their son killed himself and they had no idea he was suicidal. And that they could have helped. Knowing that they won't ever see him go to university, get a job, get married, have kids. Knowing that he's dead, he's gone, and he's never coming back.

It's been over a week, 8 days to be precise, since I found out that Dan had committed suicide, and the weird thing is; I don't feel any sort of emotion now. I don't feel sad or angry or regretful anymore. I don't feel anything. I should be crying, I should be screaming with pain and regret like I did when I first found out. The voice in my head has stopped and I feel more solitary than ever before. I feel like I'm drowning, while I can see everyone else swimming. I feel empty.

I wonder how other people feel about Dan. Are they ridden with guilt and sadness like I was? Or do they feel empty, like how I feel now? Or are they even _bothered? _Are they just simply getting on with their life, ignoring the fact that someone had killed themself? I want to know but on the other hand, I _really _don't want to know because I'm afraid of what else I might discover.

I wonder if there will be a funeral for Dan. Do you have funerals for people who've committed suicide? If there is, I wonder who will come. I wonder how many people will pretend that they cared about Dan. I wonder how many people will cry. I wonder how many people will realise that they too could have helped him.

I wonder what the Howell household is like now. How they'll have to sit around a dinner table with one seat spare, how they'll watch TV as a family with one seat of the sofa unoccupied. How his mother and father will only have to say goodnight to two people, not three. How his mother will only have to wake one person up in the morning, not two. How she'll have to cook for three people, not four. How different the house will be without him. How his bedroom will never be occupied, how his bed will never be slept in again, how the curtains will never be drawn again. No more clothes on the floor, no more homework lying around. How the door will probably be rarely opened, if at all.

I think about my own life. My parents haven't realised that I haven't gone to school for the past 7 days. They haven't noticed that I haven't been going out at all; they haven't noticed that I barely leave my room. They haven't noticed anything. Is this how Dan felt? As if no one cared enough to realise what was going on?

I think about how if you repeat something over and over again, then it loses its meaning. Our lives are the same way, you watch the sunset too often and it just becomes 6pm. You make the same mistake over and over again and you stop calling it a mistake. If you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, one day you'll forget why.

I decide to turn my phone on for the first time in a week and I'm greeted with dozens of messages. All from Lucy, Anna and Megan. All asking me why I'm not in and what I'm doing and feeling. I don't reply to any of them. I don't need to. I don't want to. I can't even explain it anyway. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way. I wish I did. I don't even miss them; I don't even want to see them, my three best friends. They won't understand. And they wouldn't be able to understand because you'd have to be that person. And I kind of think, what's the point? If you don't really know someone and they don't really know you, not _properly_, then why bother trying?

I think about Dan. How bad his life must have been to make him believe that it wasn't going to get better so he should just commit suicide. How he couldn't take it any longer, how he was sick of being in complete and utter solitude. How the sadness and the darkness took over his life.

It scares me how this solitary and this emptiness feeling is addicting; in a way that you can't stop. It's familiar, it's comfortable and it's easy in a sense that comes naturally to you. But everything else about it is hard. How you don't feel like doing anything else other than lying in bed, alone with your thoughts. The way it drags you under and holds you down, like an anchor. Yet it's addicting, because you know it well. And there's sort of a comfort in that, like being home or sleeping in your own bed after being away. There's just a sense of 'this this is where I belong; this is how it's supposed to be'. And that's the scary thing because you don't know if you'll ever resurface.


	11. But goodbye means going away

Am I depressed?

No, I can't be. I don't self-harm and I'm not suicidal. I can't be, can I? I don't even feel _sad_, I just feel empty. But the emptiness is always there, like a shadow and it's quickly becoming a part of my existence.

The next few weeks pass slowly, the shadow now permanently hanging over me. I've forgotten what it's like to not have the shadow; I've forgotten what it feels like to be normal.

I google the word 'depression' and I'm redirected to _Major Depressive Order_. That's not it. I carry on looking and I see an entry under _Depression (mood) _and I find the word _Dysthymia – a state of a chronic depressed mood_. I read that it 'persists for 2 years or longer'. I can't even remember when the shadow began to loom over me, I know it was after Dan's death but not how long after.

I walk into school the next day and I'm greeted by Anna, Lucy and Megan. They tell me that Lucy's mum has woken up and is starting to walk and talk but she's having trouble with her memories. Or something like that. I wasn't really listening.

I sit down in maths and wait quietly for everyone to file in. The lesson is silent for the whole hour; no one speaks unless they're spoken to. Dan's empty desk sits in the middle of the classroom. I see his tormenters occasionally look at the vacant seat and an emotion I can't quite figure out fills their eyes before they hastily look away. Even though no one really noticed him, everyone subconsciously misses him.

I sit with Megan and Lucy at lunch, Anna's in detention. They sit there, laughing and giggling. I sit there, staring into space.

'Hey Keara' Megan says, waving a hand in front of my face. 'Anyone home?'

I blink and turn to look at her. 'Huh? Oh yeah, sorry, just spaced out'.

Megan and Lucy frown. 'You've been doing that a lot recently' Lucy states.

'Oh…Have I?' I feign confusion.

'Yeah' they say simultaneously.

'Oh…Right…Um, sorry'.

Lucy leans forward and stares at me directly; I resist the urge to look away. 'Hey, is there something bothering you?'

'What? Oh no, no' I mumble. 'I'm fine, just a bit tired'.

They both look doubtful but they chose to let it slide.

'Did I tell you I was thinking of trying out for a singing competition?' Megan says suddenly and Lucy and I look at her in surprise.

'I didn't know you liked to sing' I say.

'I didn't know you could sing' Lucy says at the same time.

'I'll show you' Megan says, tossing her head and proceeding to sing a truly terrible cover of Muse's New Born.

Lucy begins to snicker and I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud.

Megan finishes and looks at us expectantly. 'Was it good?'

'Um…You need some practise' Lucy says tactfully and I giggle.

Because that is the truth of depression: it doesn't stop you from laughing. It doesn't stop you from smiling. It just stops you laughing whole-heartedly, feeling truly happy. Laughter is physical; depression is mental. The one is brief; the other becomes your constant. And it tugs at you, nags you: this laughter won't last, it tells you. Laughter never lasts. Nothing lasts.

'Thanks. And you know that was just a set up? To see if I could get Keara to laugh' she hits my arm gently and I chuckle.

'Just as well, you're terrible' I reply and Megan smiles good-naturedly.

The rest of the school day passes and I find myself walking down the road Dan used to live in. I pass his house but I don't see any cars in the driveway. I pause and hesitantly walk closer. I peer in through the window but I'm greeted by an empty room, no furniture in sight. I walk to the door and I knock on it loudly, hoping someone will answer.

I wait for at least 4 minutes but I get no reply. I walk dejectedly down the car-less drive and turn to look at the house once more before it disappears from sight.

The Howell's must have moved away. A new place, a new start. They want to leave everything bad behind. The house that holds so many painful memories. They want to try their best to move on, but I don't think they ever will be. Not properly.

I wish I could have said goodbye to Mrs Howell, wished her and her family all the best for the future and, apologised for one last time.

I wish I could have said goodbye to Dan.

Now I'll never have a chance.

But, saying goodbye means going away. And going away means forgetting.


	12. It's not about forcing happiness

The next few months pass in a blur. I go to school; I laugh, I smile. I pretend. But the emptiness is still there, looming over me like a black cloud.

Each time I walk past Dan's old house, the sadness washes over me, engulfing me. A new family have moved in. I wonder if they knew. I wonder if they knew why the Howell's moved. I wonder if they know what happened in that brown bedroom. I wonder if they knew that a 17 year old boy had taken his own life, right in that very room.

I wonder where the Howell's are now. How they're all coping. How his brother will have to grow up without Dan at his side. How his parents will only have to raise one child. I wonder how they're getting on with their lives. They moved away because they wanted a fresh start, a chance to move away from the painful memoires their house held. But they can never truly escape memories; no one can. It's always there, in the back of your mind. And when you're least expecting it, it jumps out at you.

Everyone at school's moved on; though a look of pain or sadness or regret flashes in their eyes when they see Dan's empty seat in class. No one speaks of him; it's like he never even existed. But despite his lack of mentions, I think he's always there in the back of their minds. Because they know they could have helped him; they know that if they had acted earlier, then he could be alive.

It's now September and the leaves have turned to oranges, browns and golds. It's a cold morning and I find myself walking along a grass verge. I don't know where I'm heading, and I don't really care. It's peaceful out, the only sound being the leaves crunching underfoot as I walk along. The grass verge suddenly stops and I find myself outside a black, iron gate. It's got a name plaque beside it, nailed to the stone wall. It's a cemetery. I exhale and my breath hangs in the cold air.

I steel my nerve and walk forwards and open the gate. I look around, trying to find Dan's grave. There was no funeral for him; I guess they don't have funerals for people who commit suicide.

I walk around aimlessly for a while. I see an old man hunched over a grey head stone, a bunch of roses laid on the ground. His head is in his hands and he's rocking backwards and forwards, sobbing quietly. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets and tilt my head down against the cold.

An elegant, white headstone catches my eye and I walk over to it. There are only two, dead or wilted flowers beside it, a rose and a violet. I kneel down on the ground and look at the curved writing engraved on the stone.

"_Daniel James Howell_

_11__th__ of June –8__th__ of July 2012_

_Now we must let you move forward, our love lies with you, our souls fly with you. May angels lead you in."_

Tears on my face, memories burned in my head. The roses are wilted, the violets are dead. I hastily stand up; and wipe the tears away with my sleeve. I turn on my heel and run out of the cemetery without a second glance.

I return around 20 minutes later, carrying a single, white lily. I kneel down on the soil and place the lily in front of the white head stone. I trace the engraving on the stone with my finger, feeling it's every curve. I smile as I stare at the lily; its petals open and a bright white. The trees rustle in the gentle wind and I hear the sweet sound of birdsong.

'I'm sorry' I whisper. My throat tightens and the tears begin to fall again.

I stay there for a while, in complete solitude. I don't say a word; I just sit there and think.

'I'm so sorry Dan' I say as I stand up. The tears roll off my face and drop gently onto the soil. But a feeling of serenity washes over me, I feel relieved in a way.

Maybe Dan didn't belong here; maybe that's why heaven called his name. But it just doesn't really seem right; was it really his time? I wish he was it here, but it's becoming clear to me now, that's Earth's just not the place for an angel like him. He deserved better. I know that he hated life with each breath; I know he didn't have any strength left to fight and that he was grieving with each passing day.

He waited for me but I never came. But now that he's gone, I feel like it's my fault, I feel like I'm to blame. I never did listen, I never showed. But the truth is, I want to know now. I kept it all bottled inside of me. I let the sadness take over.

I walk out to the exit. I feel different.

I look up to the sky and I wonder if Dan's up there, looking down on me. Looking down on all of us. I hope he's happier up there. I really do.

'Sleep well my friend' I whisper. I hope Dan can hear me somehow. 'There will be another moment we'll meet again. Sleep well, good night, I wish you were here by my side. I'll never forget you Dan, you're something to remember'. I remember the words on his headstone. 'May angels lead you in Dan'.

I walk out of the cemetery. I feel lighter; like the dead weight inside of me has lifted. I feel that I've now come to terms with everything that's gone on in the past few months. I feel like I've finally let go.

But I can now find the light. The darkness has gone; the light has won.

I realise now, that it's not about forcing happiness; it's about not letting the sadness win.


	13. Author's note

_Hello everybody!_

_Solitude is now finished and I hope you all enjoyed it! Sorry about the extremely long wait for chapter 12 (final chapter) but my exams are now over! Until the May/June but from now until then, I can write as much as I want!_

_I have a massive list of plots I can write about next so I can either do the sequel to Take It To The Grave or write a new story – it's up to you! So if you'd prefer me to do one over the other; then please tell me what you want (either in the reviews or PM me). But fear not, even if you all want a new story now, the sequel will be done! _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means the world!_

_-K_


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